


Your Sweet Lips

by rw_eaden



Series: Crossover Madness (SPN/Star Wars) [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Supernatural
Genre: Background Castiel/Sam Winchester - Freeform, Background Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Bodyswap, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, M/M, Matchmaker Dean Winchester, Not Canon Compliant - Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23400619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rw_eaden/pseuds/rw_eaden
Summary: Sam has an important message to get to Ben Solo. Unfortunately, nothing ever goes as planned for the Winchesters.
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Sam Winchester
Series: Crossover Madness (SPN/Star Wars) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683307
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Your Sweet Lips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [outoftheashes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/outoftheashes/gifts).



> This work is kind of a sequel to my other spn/star wars crossover, but you don't need to read that to get what's going on here. In fact, this is just an excuse to write some smut for Tori and our wonderful little pool noodle ship. 
> 
> Please enjoy. :)

Magic has rules. Sam knows this, probably more than anyone else at this point. You can do anything, theoretically, but you can’t do it without consequence. The consequence isn’t on a soul-level, not in part because Sam has been able to tap into his own natural powers, but also because it’s rare that magic requires that kind of price. The spell that Sam has just attempted doesn’t require that kind of power - it’s just ripping across a few different universes, after all. How did it get to the point that  _ that’s _ something Sam considers a do-able feat? Might as well, though. Sam’s life is already so damn weird. 

Of course, now Sam is sitting on his ass, on the ground, staring at his own face across the rickety metal table he’d been doing his spell on. 

“Ben? Ben Solo?” Sam asks through the deep rumble of his borrowed voice. 

He watches his own brows furrow, hazel eyes shifting around the sparse storeroom. “Yes?” 

Sam exhales in relief. “Thank God,” he mutters to himself.

Ben, meanwhile, is looking down at his hands -  _ Sam’s hands _ \- in confusion and mild horror. “What - uh - did you plan this?” 

“Yes. Kind of. Not the uh,” Sam gestures between the two of them vaguely. 

Ben looks down at the table that Sam had been standing at just a moment before. “O-okay.” 

Well. This is going to be interesting. 

\---

Sam finds Dean standing in the kitchen, rooting through the fridge and munching leftover bacon. He looks up Sam over the fridge, blinks twice, and shouts at the top of his lungs. “Sam! We’ve got a situation!” 

Sam startles momentarily, forgetting for a minute that he’s not in his own body. “I’m right here, Dean,” he says. 

Dean stares vacantly for a minute, not even chewing as he takes Sam in. He then shuts off the fridge door, dusts off his hands, and sighs. “What did you do?” 

“I’m not sure,” he says. 

“What were you attempting to do?” Dean asks. 

Sam shrugs his shoulders, looking down at his borrowed boots like they’re the most interesting thing in the world. “I found one of Rowena’s old books.” 

“Sam.” 

“I just wanted to talk to him.” 

“Seriously? Come on Sam. You know some people write fanfiction when they’re upset with a story, right? Seems like a nerd thing you’d like.” 

Sam huffs, blowing one of Ben’s dark locks out of his eyes. “It’s different when you know they’re real.” 

Dean shakes his head and opens the fridge again, pulling three beers from the depths before closing it with his knee. “So where is Space Hamlet anyway?” 

Ben peeks out from behind Sam’s shoulder. “I’ve been here the whole time,” he says. And he has. Sam doesn’t usually make a habit of leaving guests around in the depths of the bunker - the hallways are remarkably easy to get turned around in. 

“Dude, that’s spooky,” Dean says, looking between the two of them. He passes out the beers and leads the three of them to the small kitchen table. Ben squeezes in next to Sam, opposite of Dean. Sam and Dean both open their beers and take a drink while Ben holds his between his hands. 

“So, any ideas?” Dean asks. 

Sam pouts down at his hands - not his hands - wrapped around the bottle. It’s… strange being in someone else’s body. It’s not like wearing borrowed clothes, more like falling asleep in the car and waking up in a different county. Which, given Sam’s life up to this point, isn’t that unique of an experience, but it’s always jarring. It’s that groggy, fuzzy, almost carsick feeling of waking to movement after an hour or two of stillness on a soul-level. The body he’s in isn’t that much different from his own; both Sam and Ben are the same height, same build, same cis-parts, but that almost makes it worse. Sam could, for a minute or two, forget that he’s not in his own body, but the little differences give it away. Ben’s fingers are thicker than his own, his skin paler and his hair darker, but it’s easy to forget. 

“It would help to know what happened prior to my arrival… to your home?” Ben says. 

“Right,” says Sam, swallowing around the lump in his throat, “well I was attempting to get ahold of you. I wasn’t exactly trying to pull you into the universe, just open up a portal.” 

Sam is caught in the stare of his own eyes from a minute, the hazel a little darker, a little deeper, cautious and curious and guarded. 

“Why?” Ben asks. 

Sam blows out a breath and takes a swig of beer. “There was something I needed to tell you. If I could,” he says. 

Seeing his own face so impassive is jarring, and Sam knows he should continue, but it’s a lot harder now. He’s no stranger to giving people difficult news, it’s kind of what the whole job is about, but he just can’t at the moment. When they get back into their own bodies, he’ll do it. 

“Alright. What were you doing?” Dean asks, gesturing to Ben with his bottle. 

“Dameron was giving a briefing. I’d stepped out for a moment -” 

“Dameron. Like Poe Dameron?” Dean asks. 

“Yes, that’s him.” 

“What were you doing with Poe Dameron?” 

Ben shrugs, suddenly finding the laminate tabletop much more interesting. “I defected.” 

“You - you did what now?” Dean asks. 

Ben rolls his eyes and a very familiar bitchy look settles in the frown of his borrowed lips. “I left The First Order,” he says. “It wasn’t worth it, anymore. I couldn’t… I couldn’t do it anymore.” 

“So who’s the Supreme Leader then?” Sam asks. 

“The First Order is no more. After the war, the remaining officers surrendered or were jailed. We’ve been working on reconstruction for the last several cycles.” 

Dean smirks and shakes his head. “So the war’s over and you’re still standing, eh?” 

“Yes,” says Ben, eyes shifting between the two of them. 

“Well that’s good,” says Dean. 

“It’s great,” Sam says. 

It’s an awkward silence there for as long as it takes Dean to finish his beer. 

“Well,” he says, finally slamming the empty bottle to the table, “looks like it’s time for your favorite activity, Sammy. Let’s hit the books.” 

\--- 

There are ten different books stacked up on the table in the middle of the room, but that’s nothing. The whole room is full of dark shelves, stacks, and stacks of books in each one of them. Ben has no words for it. 

“You okay?” Sam asks, sliding up around his left side. A shiver runs up Ben’s spine at the closeness, catching the scent of his own cologne and Sam’s that’s still soaked into the cotton of his shirt. 

“I’ve never seen this many books in my life,” Ben says. 

Sam leads him towards the table and sits him down, but Ben’s in a daze. Enough of a daze that for a minute he’s not aware that he’s staring at a book full of funny scribbles and bumps that don’t make any sense. 

Oh, right. Different worlds, different languages. 

Sam and Dean settle into their seats, hunched over and flipping through pages every few minutes or so. Ben continues to stare at the strange scribbles in front of him, hoping that maybe he’ll start to get it. After all, the language has come without difficulty, so maybe the written word will follow, with enough time and effort. 

It takes a moment, but eventually, one of the brothers, Dean, looks up from their reading. 

“What’s the problem?” He asks. 

“I can’t read,” Ben says, “not this at any rate.” 

Dean sighs and drops his head to the pages of the absurdly large book in front of him. 

“How different is aurebesh from English, do you think,” Sam asks. 

Dean shakes his head, wrinkling the pages as he does. “Think we’re on our own here, Sammy.” 

“We could call Cas?” Sam says. 

Dean tsks, raising his gaze to Sam - er, Ben before his gaze falls to where Sam actually is, to Ben’s left. “He’s with Jack.” 

“Well yeah -” 

“Let them have their father-son crap. You can call your boyfriend later.” 

Sam rolls his eyes. “I just think he could help.” 

Dean shakes his head. “How long can it really take to find information on body swaps?” 

“Famous last words,” Ben mutters. 

“Hey!” Dean snaps, wagging his finger at Ben. “None of that Debby Downer crap.” 

Ben frowns, and Dean’s scowl falls from his lips as he drops his finger. “Well, at least you’ve got Sam’s bitch face down.” 

“Okay…” is all Ben can say in response. 

Dean goes back to his book, leaving Ben to stare at his Sam for as long as he’s able before it gets too strange to look at his own face. There’s no sound in Sam and Dean’s home, no steady humming of an engine or soft breeze and it’s more than unsettling. Ben’s never had this much quiet around him in his life. It makes him want to squirm in his seat but he refrains so as not to draw attention. Dean’s absorbed in his work and Sam is going to get back to his soon, and he doesn’t want to be a distraction. 

Sam breaks the awkward sentence eventually, however. “Well, if we’re not going to call Cas what are we going to do? We can’t just have Ben sit around doing nothing.” 

“I don’t mind,” Ben says. 

“This is going to take hours,” Sam says. “You really don’t want to sit around for hours, do you?” 

Ben shrugs, because what else is he going to do? 

“You could always show him around,” Dean offers, a look settling in his eyes that Ben can’t interpret. “If this takes longer than a day he’s going to need a bed.” 

“The only rooms we have made up are yours, mine, and Jacks,” Sam says. 

“Well, there’s a solution to that, isn’t there?” Dean replies. 

A slight blush colors the tips of Sam’s ears and Ben is momentarily startled by the fact that he can see how red his own ears get with the slightest provocation. Are they always like that? Is that what everyone sees when he gets embarrassed? 

Sam clears his throat, turning his attention back to the book, folding over the top corner of the page. “I’ll go see if we have any extra linens.” 

He gets up and makes his way out of the room, Dean rolling his eyes as soon as Sam’s back is turned. He waits until the sound of Sam’s footsteps are too faint to hear to turn his attention to Ben, who gives up on not squirming. 

“What?” Ben asks. 

Dean just shakes his head. “I don’t know how you two got yourselves Freaky Friday-ed, but I’m really hoping this ends soon because it’s going to get weird if it doesn’t.” 

“It’s not already weird?” 

The sliver of a smile cracks Dean’s grumpy facade. “Weirder.” 

Ben nods but doesn’t say much else, musing himself by stroking the soft leather binding of the book in front of him. 

“He likes you, you know.” 

“He’s said before,” Ben says. It’s not every day anyone looks at him the way Sam had that night the first met in a dingy cantina in the mid-rim. Honestly, no one has ever looked at him the Sam looked at him: like he’s someone to be admired. 

“No, he  _ likes _ you. Like,” Dean makes an obscene gesture with his hands. 

Ben can’t look at him anymore, his face suddenly very hot and no doubt broadcasting his embarrassment to everyone. Dean laughs and Ben curses his apparent inability to contain his feelings, no matter which body he’s in. 

“That’s uh. Well.” 

“Look, he’s not gonna do anything if you don’t want to, but I’ve read enough to know that sometimes body swaps, they can be fixed with a little  _ intimacy _ if you know what I’m sayin’.” 

“Stars,” Ben mutters, trying to shake the blush out of his cheeks. 

“But it’s just a theory. I’m sure we’ll find another way if you’re not into that,” Dean says. 

Ben stares at the polished wood grain of the table, desperately trying not to think about the possibility of  _ that _ . It would be one thing if it were Sam, but it would be a completely different thing if they were… if he had to look up at his own body while they were…  _ that _ . Sam is an attractive man, and while he hasn’t exactly dwelt on it, he would be remiss if he tried to claim he’d never thought about it. There’s something familiar about Sam, something comfortable that he can recognize. A sort of kinship, he supposes, that wouldn’t be a terrible thing to explore. It reminds him of Rey, and Tai, before her. 

“You’re sure?” Ben asks. 

“Well, there aren’t usually too many basic spells that require one specific spell to break.” 

“No, not that. The other thing. That he,” Ben flaps his hands uselessly. 

Dean rolls his eyes. “Sam isn’t the most subtle guy,” he says. 

As if summoned by the discussion, Sam pops up back into the room. 

“Well, looks like we’re gonna have to take a trip to the store,” he says. 

Once again, Dean drops his head to the book in front of him. 

\----

Like many of the awkward moments in Sam’s life, this one is Dean’s fault. After heading to Hastings to get new linens, Dean has pulled them into a sex shop. 

Yup, a sex shop. 

“What is that even for?” Ben asks as they stand in front of a sybian. 

Sam groans internally and pretends he’s anywhere but here. Oddly, for a virgin, Ben isn’t all that awkward about sex. Sure, he blushed a little as Dean led the two of them into the shop and then promptly fucked off to parts unknown, but he doesn’t look like he’s ready to bolt at every turn. He’s been asking more questions than anything. 

“It’s for - er - people with vaginas. It’s a rideable… thing,” Sam says. 

“Huh,” Ben says, tipping his head to the side. “And it’s different from the dildos how?” 

Sam has to shake himself. Hearing Ben Solo say the word dildo is a little much. Kind of like finding out your best friend eats mayonnaise straight from the jar. 

“It vibrates,” Sam says. 

“Then what justifies the price difference between this and that,” Ben points to the rabbit vibrators beside them. 

“Well, to be honest, I’m not sure. Not exactly my area of expertise,” Sam says. 

“Betcha have to say that a lot, don’t you Sammy,” says Dean, suddenly popping up behind the two of them. He’s got a box in his arms, which is never a good thing. 

“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious,” says Sam. 

Dean’s smile is all teeth. “You love it. By the way, got you a present,” he says. 

Sam rolls his eyes. “I don’t need -” 

“Not you, Samsquatch. This one’s for Benny boy over here,” he says, gesturing to Ben with the box in his hands. 

“Oh Lord,” Sam says. 

“I - uh, don’t think most of the things in here are exactly for me,” says Ben. 

“Nonsense,” says Dean, “everyone can use a good dicking every now and then.” 

For the first time since they entered, Ben actually flushes at that. Which is… interesting. 

“Here,” Dean says, handing over the box. “One of Sammy’s favorites.” 

Sam leans over to get a look, momentarily cursing Eileen because there’s only one person who could’ve given Dean the model number of his favorite piece of equipment for their playtimes. 

Ben’s lips purse as he frowns down at the box. “I - I already have a - a penis,” he stutters out., eyes still on the harness and dildo Sam’s intimately familiar with. 

“‘S not for you,” Dean says. 

“But you said -” 

“Well, it’s for you, but it’s also for Rey. Figured you might like a little give and take if you know what I’m saying.” He jabs Ben with an elbow and the poor guy nearly drops the whole box. 

“She’s not. I mean. We. I.” 

“Ignore him,” Sam says, taking the box out of Ben’s hands and setting it on the display behind them. He shoots Dean a withering look, and Dean throws his hands out in defense. 

“Just something to think about,” he says. 

“Are we done here or what?” Sam interrupts. 

“Nah. Gotta stock up again,” Dean says. 

“Fine. But make it quick.” 

And Dean scurries off, entirely too pleased with himself, leaving Sam and Ben alone once again. 

A few heartbeats of tense silence pass before Sam speaks again. “Sorry about him. I hope he didn’t embarrass you too much,” he says. 

Ben shrugs. “It’s nothing,” he says. 

“No, it was inappropriate,” Sam says. 

“It’s not the worst I’ve dealt with. He’s no worse than Dameron, really,” he says. 

And now that Sam thinks about it, that actually makes sense. He never really got to meet Poe, but from what he’s seen of the films they aren’t that different. Then again, he’s not sure how much is really accurate when it comes to those films, considering… Well, considering. 

“Can I ask you something?” Sam asks. 

“You just did,” Ben says, “but go ahead.” 

“You and Rey… what’s the deal there.” 

Ben is suddenly very interested in a pair of handcuffs, and starts to fiddle with them, not looking at Sam. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure.” 

“That bad?” 

Ben frowns. 

“You don’t have to talk about it -” 

“I mean, she kissed me. We defeated the emperor together, kept him away from the mortal to the World Between, and she kissed me. And it was -” he sighs, “anyway, after we went back to the Resistance she sort of. We don’t talk about it.” 

“No?” 

Ben shakes his head. 

“Have you tried talking to her?” 

“We’re never alone. I don’t think her friends trust me yet. And who could blame them, honestly? But even when we might get alone together she runs off.” 

“Sounds like she’s scared,” Sam says. 

“Of what? It’s not like I’d ever hurt her. I care about her. A lot.” 

“Which is probably what scares her,” says Sam. 

Ben sighs. “Yeah. Maybe.” 

“Hey, love birds!” Dean shouts from the store’s exit, two heavy bags in his hands. “Ready to go?” 

Sam rolls his eyes, but Ben’s already staring towards the door. 

Yeah, awkward doesn’t even begin to cut it. 

\---

Ben isn’t sure what to do with his time. Sam and Dean continue their research most of the time but there isn’t much for Ben to do. There is a gym in the bunker, but there’s only so much a person can work out before it gets dull. The room Sam’s set up for him, but it’s mostly empty and Netflix in Sam’s room is… complicated. The tech is all strange, outdated and stuck in one place. It’s nothing like the holos he’s used to. 

The bed he’s been given isn’t too bad, but it’s not his own. Not that he really has a bed of his own, back with the Resistance, but it’s familiar enough. 

“Hey, you alright?” Ben’s own voice pulls him out of his thoughts. 

He finds Sam standing in the doorway, one hand clutched to the doorframe. It… does a strange thing to see himself in Sam’s flannel and blue jeans. 

“I’m alright,” Ben says. 

Sam frowns. 

“You know we’ll get this figured out soon, right?” Sam says. 

“Yeah, I know.” 

Sam comes into the room then, sitting down on the bed and patting the sheets next to him. Ben eases himself down. Sam beats his fist against his knee once or twice but neither says a thing. It’s been… weird since the sex shop. It’s been weird the whole time. Which is a problem because he actually does like Sam. He likes his company and thoughts and ideas. But this… this is starting to drive him nuts. 

“You know, Dean had an idea a few days ago,” Ben says. 

Sam raises a single eyebrow. “Did he?” 

“He thinks that some… intimacy might help switch us back -” 

Sam scoffs. “Dean read too much porn,” he says. 

“We haven’t found anything else yet,” Ben says. 

“No, but we will. I’m not going to - that’s a little much to ask of you.” 

Ben swallows. “Is it, though? I mean, we’re already - I mean, I’ve had to shower. Use the bathroom. We’ve seen each other naked now. Technically.” 

Sam pushes the long waves of his hair out of his hair, tucking it behind Ben’s unfortunately large ears. “Yeah but that’s… it’s different. He’s not talking about -” 

“I’m 32, Sam. I know what sex is.” 

“Right but have you had it?” 

Ben’s stomach flutters. “I don’t see why that has to be such a big deal,” he says, despite the nerves that worm around and take root in his chest. 

“It’s… it’s not that.” 

“Then what is it?” 

“Well, it’s…” Sam drawls but doesn’t finish his sentence. His gaze is focused on the door, and a sudden awful realization settles in Ben’s guts and makes him wonder if he’s been off about this the whole time.

“Is this about Cas?” Ben asks. “Because I thought Dean was joking.” 

Sam lets out a breathy laugh and shakes his head. “Cas and I are together, yes, but it’s open. We’re not exclusive. Technically, I think he’s still married to a monster queen. But it doesn’t matter, as long as we’re open.” 

“So if it’s not Cas… you don’t think of me that way, do you?” 

“What? No,” Ben scooted a little further away, until Sam sets a fluttering hand on Ben’s thigh, “no, I mean yes. But not. I’m not always thinking about you like that. I think about you as a person. A person I respect. But I - yes?” 

“Is that a question or a statement?” 

“You’re attractive,” Sam says. 

“So you do find me attractive. As I do, you. So what’s the problem?” Asks Ben. 

“It’s just… it’s a big thing, you know? And I don’t want you to feel like you have to just because it might help. And with you and Rey…” 

“I’ve told you we’re not really like that.” 

“But you want to be.” 

Ben bites his lip, nodding. “I don’t think she’ll judge me for what I do when we’re not together. She’s already seen my worst. If that hasn’t completely driven her off the fact that I’ve had sex won’t do it, either.” 

Ben finds himself sitting in the quiet of his borrowed room, staring into his own dark brown eyes. “It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” He says, swallowing his nerves. 

He’s not sure who moves first, but in the space of a heartbeat, the two of them are coming together, kissing. Sam’s lips are warm and soft, and Ben finds himself falling into it eagerly. 

It doesn’t get weird until Ben, or maybe it’s Sam, slips a tongue past the other’s lips. There’s a jolt then, something hot and electric surging through them both, and Ben has to pull away. When his vision clears he finds himself dizzy, sitting opposite of Sam - who actually looks like Sam. 

“Did we just -” he trails off, stricken by the sound of his own voice for once. 

“Huh,” Sam says, inspecting his hands, “Dean was actually right about something.”

“So does that mean - we’re not going to -” 

Sam looks up at him and smiles, the dimples in his cheeks on full display and Ben’s heart flip-flops in his chest. “I mean if you still want to -” 

Ben doesn’t wait for further instructions. He’s got his hands tangled in Sam’s hair, their lips meeting once again, breathing in the startled, pleasured laugh in Sam’s breath. He smiles too, thrilled for once that this is going where he wants it to go. 

Sam’s hands find his arms, trailing over the fabric of his borrowed flannel and slipping under, pushing insistently until Ben has no choice but to let go so Sam can strip him of his first layer. It gets tangled and discarded at the foot of the bed, followed by the plain t-shirt that Sam dressed him in earlier. 

They pull apart long enough for Ben to get his lips on the column of Sam’s throat, tasting the sweet skin there, worrying it with his teeth because he can’t help himself. Sam’s groan makes him pause, just for a moment, and it’s long enough to find himself pushed back against the bed, Sam’s knees on either side of Ben’s hips. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” Sam nearly growls. Ben shudders, hips canting upwards without his permission. 

Sam’s hands are warm and solid against his chest, confident as they trace a path up his ribs and leave gooseflesh in their wake. It’s clear who’s in charge here, though Ben never really had any doubt. Left to his own devices, he suspects he might not really know what the hell he’s meant to do, but Sam, Sam knows. Ben lets himself melt into the mattress, a soft moan stuttering out of his lungs as Sam’s wonderful, steady hands coax every nerve in his body to full awareness and his lips to leave hungry kisses and teasing bites along his throat and chest. 

But as willing as Ben is, he’s restless. His own hands skim over the soft skin of Sam’s arms, down his hard back, up under clothes until there’s too much resistance. Sam rises to his knees and whips both shirts off, letting them fall to the floor. Sam’s chest heaves, the hard lines of his muscles expanding and contracting, and Ben so desperately wants to trace them with his tongue. And his fingers. And his own body. If this were up to him, he’d probably just slide their bodies together, desperate to feel the strength corded there, to rub himself off against the dizzying cut of Sam’s hip bones. But this isn’t up to him if the dark look in Sam’s eyes in anything to go by. Ben’s never felt more hunted, and that’s perfectly okay with him. 

Sam starts to undo his belt and Ben hastens to do the same. His fingers are shaking, clumsy as he attempts to get the stupid little prong back out of the hole and misses several times. It’s not until Sam’s hands are on his that he’s able to manage any progress. 

Belts finally off and jeans unbuttoned, they both finally take a moment to catch their breaths. 

"How did you want to do this?" Sam asks, panting. 

"The usual way, I guess," Ben says. 

"There isn't a usual way about this," Sam says, his fingers ticking down Ben's stomach, stopping just short of the bulge in his jeans. 

"I, uh," Ben's not sure. He just wants to get out of these stupid pants. They're ridiculously tight, chafing a little where he's pressed up against them. It's got to be uncomfortable for Sam, too, given the bulge in his own jeans. "Fuck." 

"That's generally the idea, yes," says Sam. 

Ben snorts, rolling his eyes. He lets his hands skim up Sam's thighs. Those strong, lovely thighs. 

"How do you usually like to do this?" Ben asks. 

Sam shrugs. "I don't have a strong preference. We could just touch a little? See what you like?" 

"Yeah, okay," says Ben. 

Everything slows down then, as Sam undoes Ben's pants and peels them down, leaving Ben naked and exposed finally. He heaves a shuddering sigh when his dick settles against his stomach. He hopes he isn't imagining the way Sam is licking his lips as he undoes his own pants and crawls out of them. 

Sam pulls Ben up then until they're both on their knees on the bed. Sam guides him into another kiss, this one wetter and slower, but no less intense than the others they've shared. In fact, it might be more intense, given that there's nothing between the two of them. Sam's tongue teases Ben's lips as his hands smooth down Ben's back. His teeth nip at Ben's lip as their hips grind together. Groans spill between them as their cocks graze one another. Ben's whimpering lightly, his hands finding the swell of Sam's ass and pulling him tight against him. His knees nearly give out as Sam pants his hungry, broken need into Ben's neck. 

"Let me touch you," Sam says, fingers brushing across Ben's nipple. 

Ben nods, frantic to feel it. 

Sam moves slow, so horribly slow, down Ben's chest and stomach, making his muscles jump until finally,  _ finally,  _ he's got his hand on Ben's dick. Ben jolt's, punching through Sam's firm hold. 

" _ Oh _ ," Ben shudders. 

"Feels good?" Sam asks, dragging his hand up and down the shaft, slow and steady. 

"Really good," Ben says around a sigh. He's touched himself before, but it's so different when someone else is doing it. It feels better, so much better, the tightness around his prick new for the first time in years. Even the way his foreskin slides around the head of his cock, the way his precome dribbles out and makes things wetter, the way his balls begin to ache, is different. 

" _ Sam _ ," Ben whines. He's shaking like a leaf, but it can't be helped. He can't get out what he wants to say. All he can do is feel it. And stars, does it feel good. 

"Say my name again," Sam says, breath hot against Ben's neck as he nips at his ear. 

"Sam," Ben sighs, " _ o-oh, Sam _ ." 

"Are you gonna come?" Sam asks. 

Ben nods, his head falling to Sam's shoulder. 

Sam doesn't speed up. He just keeps at the same unrelenting, steady pace. "Wanna see it," he says, "wanna see you lose it." 

Ben bites into Sam's flesh, helpless. 

"Let go," Sam says, "let me see you." His other hand skims down lower, cupping and rolling Ben's heavy balls as they start to draw back. 

Ben shakes his head. "But - you - I -  _ ooooh _ ." 

He can't stop it, though it builds slowly. The heavy pressure in his balls builds, his thighs shake, and his dick pulses. It's so good but he doesn't want it to end. Doesn't want this to be over. He tries to say something, grabs Sam's wrist to stop him, but he can't. He squeezes around Sam's wrist as he comes, groaning out a half-garbled swear. 

Sam doesn't stop stroking until Ben feels his hand away. His cock still feels like it's pulsing, though it has to have stopped by now. 

"Fuck," Ben says with a shaky laugh. He finally lifts his head to look at Sam and finds him smiling. 

"What can I do for you?" Ben asks, voice still shaking minutely. 

"You don't have to." 

"I want to. So bad," says Ben. 

Sam moves back then, sitting against the headboard with his legs spread. He starts to pat his thigh but then thinks better of it. 

"I - how do you feel about using your mouth?" He asks. 

Ben falls forward onto the bed so fast he nearly blacks out. Sam laughs and pulls him up by the arms until he's face to face with Sam's thick cock. It's … well, this close it's a little intimidating. 

"You don't have to try to take it all," Sam says. 

Ben nods, eyes locked on the thick vein right in front of him. 

"Just - " Sam balls his fist on his thigh, squirming a little against the sheets. "Try whatever you like. But no teeth."

Ben nods and scoots closer on his belly, tracing the vein up Sam's cock with his tongue. Sam sighs above him, hands laying flat against his thighs. 

Sam's cock tastes different from the rest of him. Not as sweet as the skin on his neck, or the softness of his lips, but it's still wonderful. Ben spends quite a bit just licking at it, feeling it twitch and jump beneath his tongue. He moans when he finally slides his lips over the head, the spongey head much softer, more pleasant on his tongue. 

"Yess," Sam hisses above him, fingers twitching. 

Ben suckles the head, tonguing at the slit and enjoying the mucky salt that dips out. He slides down further, trying to get used to the way his jaw stretches. 

"S-suck a little," Sam instructs, breathless. 

Ben does, and Sam groans. He also gives up and sets his hands in Ben's hair, petting and stroking as Ben takes as much of Sam as he can manage. 

Ben's not sure he's doing a good job. He bobs his head, sucking lightly and letting the soft head tickle the roof of his mouth. It's good, even if he's drooling all over the place. He sucks once, hard, trying to stop from making a mess and Sam groans above him, hands clenching in Ben's hair. 

"Do that again," Sam says. 

Ben does. He alternates between long, hard sucks and gentle bobbing, and Sam moans. 

"Just like that. Just like that," he mumbles, body sagging against the headboard as his thighs tense. 

Ben keeps it up. It seems like he's just got a good rhythm going when Sam starts muttering about being close. But Ben doesn't stop. He doesn't want to stop. He wants to see Sam lose it, too. 

He watches as Sam's head falls back against the headboard, long column of his throat bared as he rumbles a heady " _ fuck _ " and pulls Ben's hair. His cock jumps, and that's the only warning Ben gets before Sam is shooting off. Ben swallows as quickly as he can, but he still winces when Sam's come hits his tongue. 

Sam laughs. "Sorry." 

Ben finally pulls off, working his jaw. Fuck, he didn't realize he'd be this sore. 

"No. I wanted it," Ben says. 

"Still. Come isn't great," Sam says. 

Ben would argue, but he can't. Instead, he just sits up and tries to find a position that doesn't make him look ridiculous naked. Now that the haze of desire has worn off he's very aware that he's naked and covered in his own come. 

"Hey," Sam says, nudging him with his foot, "you good?"

"Yeah. I'm good," says Ben. 

"Good. Then how about a shower?" Sam asks, pulling himself off the bed. 

Ben takes his hand and lets himself be led, still naked and covered in come, to the shower. 

\----

The second time, the portal spell is up and running just fine. Sam isn’t sure what the hell happened the first time, but this time around he’s managed to open a doorway between their worlds without accidentally switching bodies with Ben or Dean who’s also decided to see him off. 

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Sam asks. 

“As sure as anyone can be that cross-universe travel will wind up okay,” Ben says, peering into the rippling blue portal. One the other side, Resistance members are milling about a base, completely unaware of the magic just out of their line of sight. 

“Right,” Sam laughs, uneasy. “We could go with? Just to make sure it’s all okay?” 

“And then how would you get home?” Ben asks. 

Sam looks over to Dean, who immediately shakes his head. “Hell no. I barely tolerate your witch crap. You think I’m going to do more of it than I have to? You get your ass stuck there you can just be stuck there.” 

Sam rolls his eyes. 

Across the portal, Rey comes into view, her voice barely distinguishable over the muting effects of the magic. However, when she mentions Ben’s name he perks up next to Sam. 

“Alright,” Sam laughs, “We should probably get you back home.” 

Ben smiles, a little shy but mostly happy, as he turns to face Sam fully. 

“Why did you bring me here?” He asks suddenly. 

“Oh, right. Well. Doesn’t matter now,” Sam says. 

“It was important enough to attempt this in the first place, though.” 

“Right, but, it’s kind of irrelevant now.” 

“Sam - “ 

“He thought you died,” Dean says. 

Ben startles a little, eyes darting back and forth between the two of them. 

“I told you your lives were entertainment here,” Sam says with a small shrug. 

“Yeah, he cried for a week after we got back from the theater,” Dean says. 

Sam almost moves to punch Dean in the arm but all at once, he’s tackled into a hug, Ben’s strong arms nearly squeezing the life out of him. Sam barely has the room to get his own arms up and return it. 

Ben’s eyes are wet when they break apart, but he’s smiling that happy, bewildered smile that breaks Sam’s, damn heart. 

“Thank you,” Ben says, his voice thick. “Thank you, Sam.” 

“I didn’t do anything,” Sam says. 

Ben just shakes his head and squeezes Sam once more. 

From across the portal, Rey’s muffled voice sounds once again, this time calling out for Ben. 

“I guess I should go,” Ben says. 

Sam clears his throat, taking a step back. “Yeah, guess you should.” 

“We should… do this again sometime.” 

“Even the body swap?” Sam asks. 

Ben smirks. “As long as the cure’s the same.” 

Sam laughs, his cheeks heating despite himself. Beside him, Dean eyes him with one eyebrow raised. He hasn’t told Dean how they managed to fix it, yet. He hadn’t really felt like hearing the gloating. Well, he’s probably figured it out now. 

“Well, I’ll see you around I guess,” Sam says. 

Ben nods. “It was an honor seeing you again,” he says, dropping his hands from Sam’s arms finally. He takes a step towards the portal. 

“Hey, wait a minute!” Dean says, digging something out of the duffle bag they’d used to transport ingredients into the room. “Forgot your present,” he says. 

Ben frowns down at the box, the same harness and dildo Dean had handed him in the sex shop the last time they went out. “Thanks,” he says dryly. 

“Well, I figured now that you got a taste you might be more receptive,” Dean says. 

“Dean!” Sam snaps as Ben flushes. 

“You’re loud, Sammy. We’ve had this discussion before.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Sam says, mostly to Ben, who’s now pursing his lips, probably trying to hold back the blush that’s overtaken his face. 

“You know what,” he says, “it’s fine. Really. I’m glad that I - I’m glad you’re my friends,” he says. 

“We’re glad, too,” says Sam. 

“Eh, jury’s still out,” says Dean. 

Ben rolls his eyes then, but a small smile ghosts over his lips. “Take care of yourselves, Sam and Dean.” 

“You, too, Ben.” 

“Give Rey our love,” says Dean. 

Ben nods one final time, takes a deep breath, and steps back through the portal. It dissolves as he makes his way up to a frantic looking Rey. 

“So, you think it’s possible to drag other people through that thing?” Dean asks. 

“You’re awful, Dean,” Sam says. 

“I’m just sayin’. As long as it’s not Jabba the Hutt I’m pretty much down to swap with anyone in that universe if you know what I’m sayin’.” 

“You’re the worst.” 


End file.
